


Tony Stark hates magic

by ComicBooksBro



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Secret Wars Battleworlds, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst?, Character Death Fix, Cosmic Cube, Fix-It, Happy Ending, I do what I want, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, is that how the cosmic cube works?, no beta we die like steve, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22714279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComicBooksBro/pseuds/ComicBooksBro
Summary: In which Tony Stark waxes poetic about Steve, how much he hates magic, and buys a cosmic cube.A love story.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Tony Stark hates magic

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my 5 year (has it really been five years?) late fix-it for you-know-what in 1872.

Tony Stark hates magic. Not card-trick coin-behind-your-ear magic, fun and games is fine. It's the _real_ magic that he hates. Monster summoning, hex casting magic. It took everything about their world- their fragile, little world- and turned it on his head. Things summoned from magic also proved unfairly hard to kill. Tony thought magic was best left in either fiction, or the other domains of battleworld.

Steve rogers on the other hand, was _fascinated_ with magic. Particularly the dangerous kind. There wasn't much _real_ magic in Timely, but at any rate, Steve was determined to find it _all_. It was sort of a bucket list to him, to see if it was real (sometimes) or fake (most times). And on the off chance that it was real, if it was dangerous (almost all times) or not (hardly ever). 

Over the years Tony had joined Steve on several of these magic-finding missions, some of them with... interesting results. They had met many people, acquired many bruises, and delivered many I-told-you-so's on both sides. And, of course, they had learned who to avoid riling up under _any_ circumstances. For instance, about three years ago, a former surgeon going by the name of Strange ( _Doctor_ Strange, if you please, _Stark_.) had showed up, claiming to be a master of the 'mystic arts,' whatever those were. Both Steve and Tony were instantly skeptical, that was until Strange had zapped them into some backwards approximation of their world and back at the speed of sound. 

That little excursion had been enough to put Steve off of magic for a while.

But a month later the Maximoff twins had showed up, and all fears were forgotten- on Steve's end at least. Tony would never admit it, but he really liked those adventures with Steve.

And then the sheriff had to go and die.

It shouldn't have affected Tony as much as it did. He had killed many _many_ people over the years, directly or indirectly, and yes he had some guilt over it- quite a lot of guilt over it actually, it was what had gotten him stuck in the little slice of Hell called Timely. That really didn't matter though, he wasn't hailed as some great hero here- sure people owned his guns, but no one cared that he had designed them. They were content to let him waste his money on poor whiskey and drink himself to death. Except Steve of course, him and his stupid heart of gold, he had loved Steve, but now he was dead and there was nothing Tony could do. He _shouldn't_ care, it was just another body in the ground.

A body that should have been his instead. 

Tony would die in a heartbeat if that would bring Steve back, but it wouldn't. Nothing would, and it was Tony's curse to keep living- to try and keep Timely safe. It was hard to smile sometimes. Practically half the town had known he was in love with Steve, so they gave him some time to grieve. Tony knew he should be over it by now- Steve was dead and gone two months now- but he couldn't stop himself from breaking down sometimes. 

It didn't help that he had Steve's star. 

All this ran through Tony's mind in rapid succession as he made his way to the center of town. Some sideshow or circus was coming through and half of Timely had come out to see it. It wasn't many times exciting things happened in town without someone dying, so most people were excited. _It couldn't hurt to join them,_ Tony thought. Especially considering that he was a well enough respected blacksmith now, instead of the token drunk. It would be good to get out and mingle, hell, Tony _wanted_ to mingle.

Who was he kidding? 

He was there for Steve.

About two weeks before Steve's... untimely demise, Steve had dragged Tony into the sheriff's office and put him in a cell to sober up. Nothing out of the ordinary there, it was Tuesday after all. Tony wasn't _quite_ as drunk as he could be, he could still walk in some resemblance of a line and make semi-coherent sentences. Steve had come to the saloon early tonight. Tony had whined; both about being removed from his drinking, and being stuck in a cell. He would much rather be with Steve than in the saloon any day. "It's only 9 o'clock sheriff," Tony had insisted, Steve just laughed good-naturedly before turning to his desk and picking up that day's copy of the newspaper. He scrutinized it for a moment, flipped to a page, and passed it through the bars. Tony scanned the page until the found the article Steve wanted him to see, and after a moment, got the room to stop spinning enough to read what it said. 

_**MAGIC WISH GRANTING ROCK FOUND IN CALIFORNIA MOUNTAIN RANGE** _

"Magic!" Steve said, jazz handing and smiling. (Tony would be lying if he said Steve wasn't pretty when he did that.) Then he dropped criss-cross on the floor, "So, what do you think it _really_ is, Stark?" One side of Tony's mouth twitched up into a crooked grin, the first time Steve had told Tony about his search for magic (weather it be people or artifacts) Tony had laughed in his face, and tole him that _all_ magic had a logical explanation. He had taken that back after being turned into a frog for the afternoon; Steve had had a _ball_. Tony thought it wouldn't hurt to be wrong about something every now-and-then if it meant he got to see that look on Steve's face. He was wrong a _lot_ when it came to magic.

The discussion about the wishing-rock was the last 'magic talk' they had before Steve died, and now the rock was coming to Timely. _Magic has a funny of finding its way here_. By now he had arrived and was in the center of the crowd. He spied the rock- which was really more like a cube- in the far right corner of the set-up, and started toward it. It glowed blue in an almost ethereal way. The tent it resided in was black, torn, and dusty. In addition, it was empty, save for one woman watching the cube. _Like any one would try and steal it,_ Tony thought, stepping up to the table the cube rested on.

"How much for the cube?" He asked.

* * *

Tony Stark had payed 25 dollars for a blue cube that claimed to grant wishes. _If the reporters who said I wasted money back_ then _could see me now,_ he thought, placing the cube on his table. He turned around, lit a lamp- it was getting dark, after all, and Tony didn't want his only source of light to come from a strange looking rock. The woman who he bought it from hadn't said much about how to use the cube; _'Just wish hard enough, and it will come to you.'_ As if the whole idea wasn't crazy enough already. 

It really _was_ stupid, what were the odds it would work, and even then- the odds that it would work _well_ were even slimmer. 

Pushing all of his doubts away, (And _boy_ were there a lot of them) Tony took a deep breath and sat down at the table, reached out his arms, and rested his fingers gently on the cube. 

It couldn't hurt to try, right?

He closed his eyes and took another deep breath.

He wished for Steve back.

Nothing changed. 

Tony went to sleep.

* * *

The star on his bedside table mocked Tony when he woke up. 

He had to get out of the house. 

He left, the cube was where he left it last night, taunting him to try again. It didn't matter, why would it work? What would be different this time?

Tony needed somewhere he could think. 

And that was how Tony Stark found himself at Steve Rogers' grave as the sun came up. It was pleasantly cool, and a slight breeze ruffled Tony's hair as he stood in front of the wooded cross that was the only marker of his friend's body. It wasn't like Tony had expected anything amazing to happen last night, but it was still disappointing. No- a bit more than that- it was _crushing_. Tony wouldn't let himself cry today. 

Soft footsteps sounded behind him and Tony stiffened, trying to pretend that he wasn't about to have a mental breakdown. "I've told you a thousand times Natasha, I'm fin-"

"Tony?"

"Steve?"

* * *

Tony Stark hates magic. _But,_ he thought as he stared at Steve, sleeping soundly next to him, _it can be helpful sometimes._

Not that he'd ever tell Steve that. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, I sure had fun writing it!
> 
> Comments are fun too... if you wanna leave one...


End file.
